


Hand in Glove

by rinwins



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Prosthesis, Short & Sweet, asking for consent, hand holding, post-s2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29297841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinwins/pseuds/rinwins
Summary: “Here,” Luke says, “help me with this?”“I’m not really a mechanic--”“That’s fine, I just need your hand.”
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 55
Kudos: 675





	Hand in Glove

Din hooks an empty supply crate over to the fire. He didn’t  _ see _ the Jedi start it, but there it is, burning cheerfully in the firepit. “Kid’s asleep,” he says.

“Finally,” says Luke, smiling into the flames.

“Huh,” says Din, “yeah.” He sits himself down on the crate. “Training doesn’t tire him out as much as it used to.”

“Well, I expected he’d be strong.” Luke curls and uncurls the fingers of his gloved hand. He’s still looking reflectively into the fire, but his gaze is suddenly very far away. That’s-- a little too familiar, honestly. Din watches his hand instead.

“Prosthetic?” he says, eventually.

Luke turns and wiggles his fingers in a little wave. “Cybernetic. Good eye.”

“Is it bothering you?”

“Mm-mm. Thumb just keeps slipping the connector, that’s all.” He watches Din for a moment, seeming to consider. Then, all matter-of-fact, he starts stripping off the glove. The patina of metal underneath is a dull gleam in the firelight.

“Here,” Luke says, “help me with this?”

“I’m not really a mechanic--”

“That’s fine, I just need your hand.”

What is he supposed to say to that? Din moves his crate closer to Luke’s and looks at the frame of his hand.

“Keep this joint in place,” says Luke, positioning Din’s hand at the base of his thumb. “There-- just hold it like that. That’s good.” There’s a little tool concealed in the frame-- clever-- and Luke uses it to reconnect a coiled artificial tendon, tighten a tiny connecting screw. Din watches him finish the repair with something approaching fascination.

“I know,” Luke says, “I could stand to polish this thing once in a while.”

“That’s not--” at  _ all _ what he was thinking, he almost says. He looks up into the other man’s face and meets a truly disarming smile.

“Jedi make jokes?” he manages.

“If you knew many Jedi,” says Luke, “you’d be surprised we ever talk sense.”

He’s still smiling. His eyes are very, very blue. 

“You can let go now,” he says.

He slides the repair tool back into its housing, but he makes no move to replace his glove. Instead he catches Din’s hand again, turning it over, metal fingers sliding carefully over the beskar plate, gently tracing the fold where the leather meets his sleeve.

It’s impossible, under his helmet, but he could swear Luke’s blue eyes look directly into his.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

Din just nods. He’s not sure he can speak.

Luke removes Din’s glove with slow deliberation-- unclipping the guard plate from the bracer, folding back the worn leather-- with much more care than he did his own. Just as slowly, he turns Din’s hand over, palm up, and ever so lightly rests cool metal fingers against the creases there.

Din finds he can’t look away. His flesh and blood hand looks almost as unfamiliar to him as Luke’s metal one. For a mad moment it’s like they’ve exchanged hands altogether-- the steel that’s more him than himself attached to the Jedi instead, replaced by something like him, strange and warm and somehow welcome.

He skims his thumb over the frame, as if he’s studying the build of the device, but he  _ feels  _ tendon and tension, knuckle and palm, fingers cautiously curling into his. Can Luke feel it too? The way he laces their fingers together, metal gently against skin, Din’s sure he must. Forget speaking, he’s not sure he can  _ breathe _ .

“Din.” He hears the voice as if from far away. How long has it been? “Stay with me, okay?” 

He refocuses. Luke is still, still, smiling, brilliant and beatific. 

“It’s, uh,” Din says. “It’s good work.”

“I know,” says Luke. 

-

They’re both more startled than they’ll admit when a third tiny hand reaches up to touch both of theirs.

“You little faker,” Luke says, laughing as he scoops Grogu up onto his lap. “You weren’t sleeping at all, were you?”

The kid coos happily. “All right,” says Luke, “you can look, but be careful- your father and I just fixed it.”

Grogu puts both of his small hands in Luke’s metal one, instantly absorbed in curiosity, and Luke smiles softly over at Din. “We should  _ all _ get some rest,” he says. “R2 will have the navigation fixed by morning, we can make it back to Yavin tomorrow.”

“You two go ahead,” says Din, slowly putting his glove back on. “I’ll watch for a while.”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post/fanart](https://ngrogu.tumblr.com/post/642071246962638848) on tumblr (especially Interfering Grogu at the end, lol)


End file.
